A Little Smut
by hevaann
Summary: This has no plot! Only smut :D Don't like? Don't read!


_This smut-fic, which contains no real plot, is a thank you for all my reviewers, you make me feel special :D _

_**Alexa0455**_

_**Alitchen**_

_**BertieTiger**_

_**Camlem**_

_**Cleavage Queen**_

_**euphoracle**_

_**George Stark II**_

_**Guinevere McKechnie**_

_**housestartrek**_

_**Jennie Wilson**_

_**Laura Denvir**_

_**Lylaa**_

_**Markuse88**_

_**Militant Delusionalist**_

_**the mirror girl**_

_**MiszDaniiBoO**_

_**nina-house**_

_**pgrabia**_

_**The Princess Of Whatever**_

_**ProudToBe-LimpingTwerp**_

_**thyla**_

_**whats-up-people**_

_If you are looking for something which vaguely resembles a story line I suggest you settle down to a genuine episode..._

_As always I own none of these wonderful characters. *Curses loudly, sobs*_

To say that they were slightly drunk, would be like saying that Hannibal was slightly unfriendly; it did not even begin to cover the inebriated state they were in.

And as they had staggered from bar to bar, they had gone from groping nearby walls and lampposts to groping each other, without so much as a notion of forewarning.

So by the time they had pushed the door open into House's apartment, Wilson was already shredding his jacket and it took mere seconds for House's cane to be flung across the room. It landed with a clatter against the wall; pulling down a photo frame, smashing the glass all over the floor. They didn't notice.

House pushed the door back closed with Wilson's body, his hands clasped tightly around the younger doctor's face, once again delving into the depths of his mouth with his tongue. By now Wilson had passed all attempts at coherent thought, and thrust himself up towards the other man's hips, moaning, when he connected with the hardness there.

He knocked House to the floor, neither paying any attention to House's bad leg, and smothered his body with his own, his hands racing up under House's shirt, grabbing the skin, his fingernails leaving trails across the flesh.

Then he was flipped over as House removed his own t-shirt and then yanked Wilson's open without bothering to undo the buttons – which were flung in all directions across the floor – as House lowered his mouth to Wilson's nipple and sucked, then bit, then licked, before beginning to trail his tongue down to the band of the oncologist's pants.

Fervently, he pulled at the zip there, fumbled with the button, and was relieved when Wilson lifted his hips graciously off of the floor so House could remove his final clothing altogether. Just as he was about to lower his mouth onto the lip of Wilson's erect penis, he paused and glanced up past the other doctor's chest to see that Wilson was silently watching him.

Suddenly both men were hit with a bout of sobriety. They were lying on House's apartment floor, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans between them; smothered in the taste of each other, panting, pores sweating and eyes locked.

Silently, Wilson nodded, and still not leaving his eyes, House began to run his tongue along the underside of Wilson's dick. Before rising back up and teasingly slipping his lips over the head.

Instinctively, Wilson grabbed handfuls of House's hair and pushed his head down, buckling up against him. House threw his hands up and pushed Wilson back down, giving him a _I am in charge and you will stay there until you have been thoroughly ravished _look.

Wilson was not ready to comply, but seconds later found he had no choice as he was frozen to the spot with ecstasy as House engulfed him again, firstly just the tip and then slowly moving up and down, taking in more and more of Wilson's manhood into his mouth. He brushed his stubble along the length, a sensation that almost drove Wilson over the edge.

Much to Wilson's annoyance, however, House chose that moment to break off, and with one hand pulled himself back up to reach the oncologist's lips once again, and with the other struggled with the fastening of his jeans.

Realising what he was doing, Wilson reached down and helped shove them down past House's leg, causing him to wince, and off onto the floor to join their counterparts. On moving his hand back up, Wilson stopped to grab hold of House's swollen cock, grasping it firmly and pulling it towards him, running his thumb over the tip.

House's head was far too full to contemplate anything as complicated as kissing at that moment. Instead just breathed into the other man's mouth, the soft warmth of Wilson's lips, and the pleasure-point pain in his crotch causing him to moan into the clean shaven face; one hand lost in Wilson's hair, the other slipping between them to mimic Wilson's movements.

Sometime later, hot and sticky, they were stretched out on the floor, wondering what the hell had happened. They knew there was a choice to be made – they could pretend that because of the drink this had _never _happened or...?

Tentatively Wilson rolled over and slipped an arm around House's waist. House grunted; he should have guessed Wilson was a cuddler. Then, making a decision, he reached up and pulled the throw off of the back of the couch and down to cover them, even though he knew neither would get a good night's sleep on the hard floor.

It was a decision they could make in the morning.

_Armed with nothing more than a laptop called Ned, a strange taste in music, and a possessive relationship with insomnia, I will take over the world – One slashy fanfic at a time! :)_


End file.
